


sweet revelation bitter wine

by derwent



Category: Stoker (2013)
Genre: Backstory, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/F, Incest, Parent/Child Incest, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26267221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derwent/pseuds/derwent
Summary: India’s inexperience was so obvious.
Relationships: Evelyn Stoker/India Stoker
Kudos: 10





	sweet revelation bitter wine

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Alexandra Savior's song 'Howl'.
> 
> The sex is barely there, honestly. It's basically character backstory with just the tiniest bit of sex.

The slow, measured way India lapped at her cunt betrayed her inexperience. _Hesitant_ was another word that leapt to Evelyn’s mind, except that she found it difficult to reconcile that word with India, whose self-possessed demeanor grated on her nerves. 

India’s inexperience was so obvious even before this moment, announced by her vigilant watch over the house where other girls were all too glad to snatch every excuse to go out, and by the untouched condoms Evelyn used to leave in her bathroom cabinet. For all India’s sensibility and level-headedness in practical matters, when it came to human relationship she was painfully lacking. 

A twisted sense of superiority coursed through her veins. At India’s age, Evelyn already had plenty of experience getting other girls off (and the occasional boys too). Of course she had, she spent her entire school days in single-sex boarding schools. Such a cliché, but when was Evelyn ever not a cliché? Poor little rich girl who ended up a forty-something drunk, bored, neglected widow with a distant daughter who came on to her late husband’s brother. 

A hysterical laugh came bubbling up her chest. She clamped her mouth shut and squashed it down with effort. 

“Stop being so tense,” India’s voice commanded from where her head lay between Evelyn’s thighs. Startled, she turned her gaze down from the ceiling to her daughter. Only then did she notice the faint pain in her left thigh, where India’s fingers left moon-shaped indentations. She tried to wrestle her legs away, but India’s hands, strong in the ways Evelyn’s weren’t, held them down firmly. For a second the room disappeared and she was staring at India lying down hidden in the grass, her hunting rifle trained at Evelyn. 

Evelyn blinked. The room reappeared. India’s dark hair stained her pale thighs. Her eyes, ever watching, catalogued each and every twitch on Evelyn’s face.

She pressed a calloused finger against Evelyn’s clit. Evelyn gasped, closed her eyes, and India did as she pleased.


End file.
